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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050351">the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu'>suzukiblu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Aphrodisiacs, Arranged Marriage, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dubious Consent, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/M, First Meetings, First Time, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Penetrative Sex, Polyamory, Praise Kink, Sex Pollen, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Top Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:27:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28050351</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzukiblu/pseuds/suzukiblu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The wedding’s going to be tonight, presumably so no one involved has time to get cold feet, which gives Geralt just enough time to clean up and get the dirt off his armor and overthink every tiny little detail of this arrangement.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>669</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>the thing perhaps is to eat flowers and not to be afraid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prim_the_Amazing/gifts">Prim_the_Amazing</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for Prim_the_Amazing, who gave me a whooole bunch of tropes to choose from and got arranged marriage and sex pollen in return.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There’s going to be a marriage. It’s less a love match and more a political arrangement, and less a political arrangement and more a ritual one. It happens in uncertain times, or when uncertain times have been prophesied, though it rarely makes it all the way from the negotiation table to the wedding. It’s been so long since anyone actually did it that Geralt barely remembers the last time. He thinks it was someone from the Cat school, then. </p>
<p>Apparently it’s the Wolf’s turn this time. </p>
<p>It’ll be someone else’s turn to send a mage, and someone else still’s turn to send a noble, and that’s most of Geralt’s knowledge about what to expect of his potential future spouses. </p>
<p>Vesemir doesn’t think they’ll go through with things, Eskel’s been attempting to make jokes about it, and Lambert is just glad he didn’t draw the short straw. Geralt’s already resigned to the inevitable unpleasantness and embarrassment of the process. Even if they don’t go through with it, he knows it’s going to be unpleasant and embarrassing. More often than not, it’s the inclusion of the witcher that sinks these arrangements. </p>
<p>But he’s dealt with worse, so he’ll deal with this. </p>
<p>They all end up in someone’s castle—Geralt doesn’t care whose—and Geralt spends the entirety of the negotiations bored in the courtyard with Eskel and Lambert and scattered witchers from other schools. Vesemir is actually doing the negotiating, though, so given the choice Geralt will stick with “bored”. </p>
<p>Somewhere in this castle there’s a mage and a noble going through a similar wait, but Geralt doesn’t really know what to think about that. Are they bored too, or do they have something useful to do with their time? Is he going to meet them, or will this fall through before he has to worry about that? Does it matter either way? He’ll still have the Path to follow, no matter what, and they’ll both have their own interests. This is a ritual, not a relationship. He’ll quite possibly never see them again after this, in fact. </p>
<p>He tries to picture what they might be like, but it’s been a while since he’s met a mage and most of his run-ins with nobles have been brief and awkward, so he’s not coming up with much. </p>
<p>It doesn’t matter, he reminds himself. The negotiations won’t even go through. </p>
<p>Then Vesemir comes back, and it turns out the negotiations have gone through. So . . . this is happening, apparently. </p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p>The wedding’s going to be tonight, presumably so no one involved has time to get cold feet, which gives Geralt just enough time to clean up and get the dirt off his armor and overthink every tiny little detail of this arrangement. He really wishes he weren’t the one doing this, but it needs done, so he’s not going to argue about it. It’s an inconvenience, and his potential spouses may still take one look at him and refuse to do it at all, but Geralt has a duty and he’s willing to do it. </p>
<p>These arrangements are supposed to be important, and supposed to help steady the continent in times of need. Geralt can handle some temporary discomfort, for the sake of that. </p>
<p>Assuming it even works, anyway. A symbolic marriage doesn’t seem like much to base alliances this important on. </p>
<p>People do it, though, apparently, so Geralt’s going to play along. </p>
<p>The wedding's already been arranged, obviously, so there's nothing to do but show up when and where he's told to. Geralt resists the urge to climb out a window and just . . . does as he's told. </p>
<p>The wedding takes place in the great hall, and it's fully decorated with flowers and candles and draped fabrics and full of people. Geralt’s told where to stand and what to do when the time comes, and not much else. He listens, already feeling like an idiot. He never expected to get married, much less get married in such a lavish ceremony while surrounded by so many people, and he really wishes this were something simpler. What's wrong with a damned handfasting, anyway? </p>
<p>Apparently that's not how it works in these circles, unfortunately. </p>
<p>At least no one expects him to wear anything but his armor. </p>
<p>The mages enter the hall. They're all overdressed, but one of them's wearing an elaborately layered dark purple dress and an unimpressed expression. She's one of the most gorgeous women Geralt’s ever seen, and she comes up to the priest with him like she's actually supposed to be here. </p>
<p>The nobles come in moments later, and they're even more overdressed than the mages. One of the less-overdressed ones splits apart from the party and comes up to the priest too, the sour expression on his face clearing away as he does, presumably to avoid causing an incident. He's very handsome, though he also looks very young. The mage at least is probably a few decades older than she looks, but the noble can't be more than twenty. Geralt is not prepared to marry a twenty year-old. </p>
<p>Or anyone, admittedly. </p>
<p>"Who is offered to this marriage?" the priest asks in a booming voice that Geralt barely manages not to grimace at hearing. </p>
<p>"Geralt of Rivia," Vesemir says. </p>
<p>"Yennefer of Vengerberg," a red-haired mage says. </p>
<p>"Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove," a pair of nobles say. </p>
<p>The noble—Julian—rolls his eyes, looking annoyed. Yennefer purses her lips, eyeing them both critically. Geralt just stands there like an idiot, waiting for the damn priest and his obnoxiously loud voice to get on with things. No one actually cares about this part, he knows; it's just for show. Unfortunately, that doesn't mean it won't be long and mind-numbingly dull. </p>
<p>Yennefer has violet eyes. They're . . . distracting, a bit. Julian's are blue. </p>
<p>The ceremony proceeds. It is, Geralt is unsurprised to find, long and mind-numbingly dull. Eskel and Lambert are probably losing their minds. <i>He's</i> sure as shit about to.  </p>
<p>The priest asks if anyone has any objections. Geralt waits for someone to bring up the Butcher of Blaviken, but strangely, no one does and things proceed, and they repeat what they're told to repeat and then they're announced as wed. Julian looks bored, Yennefer looks irritated, and Geralt feels exhausted. He wants to leave. Honestly, he'd much rather be fighting a monster right now. </p>
<p>They've still got a wedding feast to get through, unfortunately. </p>
<p>People dance and chatter and make all their little alliances and agreements, and Geralt and Yennefer and Julian sit at the head table being talked at by strangers, but not talking to each other. A servant offers Geralt an odd, flowery-smelling drink. He drinks it in the hopes it'll be alcohol. It burns going down and warms his gut, so apparently it is, though he'll be damned if he can place what kind. They bring him another, which is all he cares about. </p>
<p>He'd feel better at this point, with the ceremony over and done with and all the food and alcohol he could possibly consume in front of him, but they still have a marriage to consummate. </p>
<p>He doesn't even know how to <i>talk</i> to these two, much less fuck them. </p>
<p>That's going to be an issue, probably. </p>
<p>"I'm bored," Yennefer says after another hour or so of random nonsense from strangers and flowery alcohol from the servants, interrupting the apparently very important nobleman currently talking to her. "Let's just go and get this over with." </p>
<p>"Please, yes," Julian says feelingly, pushing his chair back from the table. The nobleman sputters. Geralt decides they've got the right idea and gets up too. This is possibly the least interesting party he's ever been to. And besides, they might as well do what they're meant to and move on. Putting it off isn't doing anything. </p>
<p>It's too warm in here, besides. He's getting overheated. </p>
<p>"This way," Yennefer says, and then leads them out of the feast hall. A few people notice, and the drunker ones cheer encouragingly. Geralt sighs. Eskel was definitely one of the cheering ones. </p>
<p>"Do you know where we're actually supposed to go?" Julian asks as they step out the door. Yennefer gives him a withering look. He holds his hands up. "Just asking." </p>
<p>"I know where we're supposed to go," Yennefer says, so they keep following her. She heads down the hall and up the stairs. Geralt looks at her back for a moment, then glances over at Julian. At least they're both attractive, he thinks. Hopefully that'll help with any awkwardness, assuming they return the sentiment. That may be assuming a little much, admittedly. </p>
<p>"You know, I'm fairly sure I've heard of you," Julian says, glancing back at him. </p>
<p>"Hn," Geralt says. That's probably a bad thing. Definitely, most likely. </p>
<p>"Blaviken, wasn't it?" Julian asks. </p>
<p>"Hn," Geralt says. Julian leans towards him, looking like he's about to press, but then Yennefer stops in front of a pair of heavy doors and pulls them open to reveal a far too decorated set of rooms, overdesigned and opulent. There are . . . a <i>lot</i> of details. </p>
<p>"Gaudy," Julian says, wrinkling his nose. </p>
<p>"It'll have to do," Yennefer sighs, stepping inside. Julian steps in after her, and Geralt follows, closing the doors behind them. He's still much too warm and still has no idea how to talk to either of them, but at least there's fewer people around now. He feels tired and nauseous, though, which isn't helping. </p>
<p>"Well, shall we get down to business or would we rather talk for more than fifteen seconds?" Julian asks brightly, clapping his hands together. Yennefer gives him a dubious look. </p>
<p>"We need to complete the ceremony," she says. </p>
<p>"I'd hardly refer to a roll in the hay as a 'ceremony' but whatever you prefer," Julian says. Yennefer snorts. </p>
<p>"It'd be awfully expensive hay," she says, gesturing around the room. </p>
<p>"Yes, well, we're all ending up naked no matter what," Julian says practically. "Where do you want to start?" </p>
<p>"With him," Yennefer says, looking at Geralt. "Are you sick?" </p>
<p>"What?" Geralt asks inanely, confused by the question. </p>
<p>"You're flushed," she says. "And you're not talking." </p>
<p>"I'm not sick," Geralt says. </p>
<p>"You smell like . . . flowers," Julian says with a faint frown. </p>
<p>"We were just in a room full of them," Geralt reminds him dubiously. Everything smells like flowers right now. </p>
<p>"No, not like that," Julian says, his frown deepening. He steps forward and puts a hand on Geralt’s forehead, and Geralt <i>would</i> say something about that except his touch feels like <i>fire</i>. </p>
<p><i>"Fuck!"</i> he gasps, jerking back from the contact. It doesn't help, though, and the fire rushes over his body and overcomes it, as if it'd been such a more intense and intimate touch than it was. </p>
<p>"Oh no," Julian says with dread in his voice. </p>
<p>"What is it?" Yennefer says. Geralt can't answer her. His head is swimming. His skin is <i>burning</i>. </p>
<p>"Fuck," he gasps out again, and he <i>burns</i>. His body is shaking painfully and his heart is hammering in his chest. He feels like he has a fever. He feels like something possessed. </p>
<p>"It's alright, it's alright," Julian says. Geralt doubles over with another gasp, gut cramping viciously. Julian reaches out towards him again and Geralt barely jerks back in time to avoid him. </p>
<p>He's suddenly achingly, painfully hard, and everything's too much, and all he can smell is sickly sweet flowers. </p>
<p>"Oh, I'm so sorry, I had no idea they were going to be this <i>stupid</i>—" </p>
<p>"What," Geralt manages to choke out, "the <i>fuck</i>." </p>
<p>"Someone drugged you," Julian says, his voice tight. "It is, to my disgust and horror, a not unusual thing in these circumstances. Usually it's meant to . . . <i>encourage</i> a hesitant partner to consummate the marriage. If I'd known someone was going to try it I'd have thrown them into the moat, at the <i>least</i>." </p>
<p>"It's not—I can't—" Geralt tries to breathe normally. Tries to keep his thoughts clear. He's used to doing that through overwhelming pain, though, not overwhelming <i>lust</i>. </p>
<p>"Well, that's appalling," Yennefer says. “I thought that went out of fashion decades ago.” </p>
<p>"It did. And yes, thus the moat-throwing," Julian says. "Though that's probably too merciful, now that I'm thinking of it." </p>
<p>"Is there an antidote?" Yennefer says. Geralt’s stomach cramps again and he barely bites back a groan. </p>
<p>"Not to my knowledge," Julian says. "Goes against the point and all." </p>
<p>"Wonderful," Yennefer mutters. "Not that I'm against the occasional enhancement potion or drug, but when I find the person who slipped it to him without <i>telling</i> him . . ." </p>
<p>"Yes," Julian says. Geralt grits his teeth as his stomach cramps harder. "Geralt, are you alright?" </p>
<p><i>"No,"</i> Geralt manages, because he's really not. </p>
<p>"Why the hell would they make it <i>painful</i>?" Yennefer asks disdainfully. </p>
<p>"For all the horrible reasons you can think of. Though they might've given him a stronger dose, too," Julian says with a grimace. "To make sure it'd work on a witcher." </p>
<p>“Of course,” Yennefer mutters darkly. </p>
<p>"It doesn't last too long, usually," Julian says. "Most people burn through it in under an hour." </p>
<p>"Witchers have slower blood circulation," Yennefer says. Jaskier curses. </p>
<p>“I’m going to find out who did this and the <i>least</i> I am going to do is see them thrown in a moat,” he swears. Geralt might appreciate the sentiment, but he really can't think past the burning. </p>
<p>“Julian—” he tries. </p>
<p>“Jaskier," Julian interrupts. </p>
<p>“What?” Geralt manages, blinking stupidly. Julian looks briefly embarrassed. </p>
<p>“Jaskier,” he repeats. “That’s my name. No one calls me ‘Julian’ except for my parents. At least, no one that I like. Not that I much like my parents, admittedly.” </p>
<p>"That's very nice, but perhaps we could focus on the problem at hand?" Yennefer says dryly. Jaskier flushes. </p>
<p>"I was just saying!" he says. "Look, it's—well, we were going to do this anyway, right? We can handle this." </p>
<p>"Mmm, yes," Yennefer says, eyeing Geralt speculatively. He feels increasingly nauseous, and can't quite catch his breath. His skin is still burning, but now it's burning for <i>more</i>. He wants Jaskier to touch him again. He wants Yennefer to touch him at all. He wants—</p>
<p><i>Fuck</i>, but he wants. </p>
<p>"I'm fine," he lies as steadily as he can. The other two give him near-pitying looks. </p>
<p>"Do you want to burn through it before we do anything?" Jaskier asks. "I've heard it's a bit . . . intense." </p>
<p>"You want to all just sit here making small talk while he suffers through things?" Yennefer says incredulously. </p>
<p>"Obviously not, look at him, he's gorgeous," Jaskier says. "But it's polite to ask, isn't it?" </p>
<p>Geralt’s head won't stop swimming. His skin is still on fire. He just . . . he really . . . </p>
<p>"I'll burn through it," he says roughly. He can barely think. There's no way he'd be able to touch them without losing his mind. </p>
<p>Jaskier makes a disappointed noise. Yennefer frowns. </p>
<p>"You're not serious," she says. "That could take hours." </p>
<p>"It's fine," Geralt manages. He can't let himself lose control like that. He can't let himself do . . . whatever it is that his burning skin and cramping stomach and aching head want him to do. It's going to be . . . it won't be . . . </p>
<p>He doesn't know what he's saying. He doesn't even know what he's thinking. It's all too much. Too sharp, too intense—too <i>much</i>. </p>
<p>He feels like he's about to pass out. </p>
<p>"I don't think it's fine," Yennefer says. </p>
<p>"You definitely don't <i>look</i> fine," Jaskier says. </p>
<p>"I'm <i>fine</i>," Geralt grits out again. He puts a hand on the wall to steady himself as a wave of dizziness comes over him. Jaskier takes half a step towards him, then holds himself back. Geralt wishes he wouldn't. </p>
<p>This is so fucking stupid. They went through with the fucking wedding, didn't they? What godsdamn <i>idiot</i> thought this was necessary? </p>
<p>Forget Jaskier’s moat. He's going to <i>kill</i> them. </p>
<p>"So if I take my clothes off right now you won't fall over?" Yennefer asks, arching an eyebrow. Geralt digs his fingers into the wall and bites his tongue. "Oh, you're going to be the difficult one in this marriage, I see." </p>
<p>"You should sit, actually," Jaskier says, pulling over a cushioned chair that looks like it cost a king's ransom. Geralt grits his teeth again and doesn't move. "Or not, alright." </p>
<p>Geralt <i>would</i> sit, honestly, but if he moved towards Jaskier right now he thinks he wouldn't be able to stop himself, and he doesn't know what "stop himself" even means. </p>
<p>"Hm," Yennefer says, tilting her head. "Jaskier, come here. Geralt, go sit down." </p>
<p>Somehow, it's very difficult not to listen to her. Jaskier goes over to her, and Geralt sits down in the chair after all, stiff-backed and still. The weight of his armor feels like it's crushing him. He wants it off. </p>
<p>He doesn't trust himself to take it off. </p>
<p>"Just tell us when you want involved, Geralt," Yennefer says casually as she tugs open Jaskier’s doublet and pushes her hands inside his shirt. </p>
<p>"Oh, that's mean," Jaskier says. </p>
<p>"I'm a mean person," Yennefer replies with a dismissive shrug. She tugs him down and kisses his mouth, and Geralt feels possessed and wild and <i>pained</i>. He grips the arms of the chair. </p>
<p>"And I'm getting the impression he's a stubborn one," Jaskier says, breaking off the kiss and glancing back at Geralt. Geralt bites the inside of his cheek to the blood and doesn't say anything. </p>
<p>"You may have a point," Yennefer says with a sigh, raising an eyebrow at GeraIt again. He still doesn't say anything. What would he say? </p>
<p>He has no idea what he'd say. </p>
<p>"What's the problem?" Yennefer asks, brushing a hand down her side. Heat spikes in Geralt’s gut. "Not interested?" </p>
<p>That is definitely not the problem. </p>
<p>"You know, the armor’s probably not helping," Jaskier says. "You willing to take that off?" </p>
<p>"No," Geralt says. That's too much, even if he hates the way it feels right now. Jaskier makes a face. Yennefer hums to herself. </p>
<p>"What's it going to take to get it off you, then?" she asks speculatively. Geralt locks his jaw. That's a fucking dangerous question. </p>
<p>He wants to answer it, but he really shouldn't. </p>
<p>"Do you ever talk, or are we just special?" Jaskier says curiously, coming over to the chair. </p>
<p>"I talk," Geralt says tightly. </p>
<p>"Not tonight, apparently." Jaskier tilts his head, then kneels in front of him. Geralt fucking <i>burns</i>. </p>
<p>"Oh, there's an idea," Yennefer says, coming over too and pushing a hand through Jaskier’s hair. Geralt wants to lean forward and touch them too badly to let himself even <i>think</i> about it. </p>
<p>"Just tell me to stop if you don't like it," Jaskier says, and then leans in himself and pushes his hands up Geralt’s thighs. Geralt nearly bites his tongue in half. He should definitely tell him to stop, but he can't trust himself to actually say it if he opens his mouth. </p>
<p>Jaskier pushes himself up enough to kiss him, and Geralt bites his mouth without meaning to. </p>
<p>"Ow!" Jaskier says, then laughs, and heat spikes in Geralt’s gut again. He keeps his hands on the armrests, but it doesn't stop the burning. Jaskier kisses the corner of his mouth, then settles back down and pushes his hands up his thighs again, eyeing his belt with clear intent. </p>
<p>Geralt still doesn't think he'd say "no" if he tried to. </p>
<p>Yennefer walks around to the back of the chair, and Geralt forces himself not to follow her with his eyes. He doesn't trust Jaskier not to do . . . whatever he's about to do. Yennefer leans against the back of the chair and snakes an arm around it, putting a hand on his chest, and suddenly Geralt feels . . . pinned, almost, even though it's not any kind of one. He inhales raggedly, and Jaskier tugs at his belt. </p>
<p>"That's promising," Yennefer purrs. </p>
<p>"One hopes so," Jaskier says, and then manages to find his way into Geralt’s armor enough to wrap a hand around his cock. "Oh!" he says delightedly, and Geralt burns all the hotter. He's still painfully hard even without any actual attention, and Jaskier pulls his aching erection out like he's unwrapping a treat, exposing it to the cool air and looking very pleased with himself as he looks it over. "Well, weren't the witchers very kind to send us <i>you</i>." </p>
<p>"We drew lots," Geralt grunts. "I lost." </p>
<p>"Romantic," Jaskier says wryly, wrapping both hands around his cock and sending fresh waves of fire across Geralt’s skin again. "<i>Gods</i>, you've got a beautiful dick. I think it could choke me. Sorry—more accurately, I <i>want</i> it to choke me." </p>
<p>"Can't handle yourself?" Yennefer drawls, tracing idle, igniting lines over Geralt’s chestpiece. He holds himself as still as he possibly can, but he's trembling. </p>
<p>"Have you looked at him?" Jaskier says. "I'm going to choke."  </p>
<p>"You may at that," Yennefer muses. </p>
<p>"If I do it right I will," Jaskier says, licking his lips, and Geralt barely restrains himself from grabbing onto him, stomach cramping painfully again and fresh sweat on his skin. </p>
<p>It's going to be too much, if he tries. He's going to <i>do</i> too much, if he tries. </p>
<p>"Should I stop?" Jaskier checks, and Geralt can't make himself tell him to. </p>
<p>Jaskier smiles, his mouth a pleased, pretty curve, and Geralt's cock twitches and spits precome. He grips the chair so tight he's afraid he's about to break it. </p>
<p>"Then I'm going to take care of this," Jaskier says, giving his cock a stroke before leaning in to lick the slit. Geralt <i>moans</i>. Much sooner and much louder than he'd usually let himself, he moans. Jaskier makes a satisfied noise and wraps his lips around the head of his cock, pressing his tongue up against it. Geralt feels like he can't breathe. Geralt <i>can't</i> breathe. </p>
<p>Yennefer pushes a hand into his hair and tugs out the tie, letting it fall loose. Geralt shudders roughly, ducking his head, and shudders rougher as Jaskier swallows him down. He makes noises he doesn't want or mean to, and Jaskier hums around him. </p>
<p>He can't breathe right. He can't <i>think</i> right. </p>
<p>It feels so fucking good. </p>
<p>"There we go," Yennefer says, stroking one hand through his hair and the other across his chest, and that feels better than it should too. "Maybe you're not so difficult after all." </p>
<p>"It burns," Geralt manages, somehow and senselessly. Jaskier bobs his head, and he chokes on a strangled curse. "Fuck!" </p>
<p>Jaskier hums smugly, then swallows him deeper and bobs his head again. Yennefer puts a hand under Geralt's jaw and strokes down his throat. Geralt grips the armrests so tight he hears them creak. </p>
<p>"That's right," Yennefer purrs encouragingly. "Does that help?" </p>
<p>"No," Geralt rasps. Yennefer strokes his jaw again. </p>
<p>"Going to have to do a little better down there, Julian," she says mildly. Jaskier makes an annoyed noise, but mercifully doesn't stop moving his mouth around him. Geralt thinks he might lose his mind if he did. </p>
<p>"It's fine," he tries to say, but he's not sure how clearly it comes out. Jaskier rolls his tongue up against his cock and bobs his head faster, swallowing him still deeper and digging his fingers in against his thighs. Even that feels good. </p>
<p>"Think you can take him all?" Yennefer asks, sounding mildly curious. Jaskier doesn't answer her past a dubious look that could mean anything, and it's taking everything Geralt has not to buck up into his mouth. As it is, he's still struggling to stay any kind of still. He wants to fuck Jaskier’s mouth until the other <i>does</i> take all of him. </p>
<p>"Jaskier," he grunts harshly, gritting his teeth, and Jaskier purrs around him, sucking tighter and making stars go off behind his eyes. Yennefer laughs. </p>
<p>"Good effort," she says in amusement. She draws her fingers through Geralt's hair. Geralt gasps, his shoulders shaking. He tries to find words, but it isn't happening. He doesn't know what he'd even say. </p>
<p>Jaskier works his mouth around him, pushes down and swallows around him, and Geralt curses and chokes and claws at the armrests. It's so fucking <i>much</i>, and Jaskier’s mouth is so hot and slick and clever, and Yennefer’s hands feel so good, and they're both so . . . </p>
<p>"Going—going to—" Geralt manages roughly, and Jaskier swallows around him one more time and he comes with a violent jerk. Jaskier chokes, pulling back and covering his mouth, and Yennefer makes a pleased noise and pulls Geralt's hair back out of his face. </p>
<p>"Show us," she says. Jaskier eyes her for a moment, but then tips back his head and opens his mouth, tongue covered in come and more slipping down his chin. It's all Geralt can do not to grab his jaw and hold it open. </p>
<p>"Hell," he says. </p>
<p>"Not bad," Yennefer says approvingly. "You didn't manage all of him, though." </p>
<p>"Look at him, of course I didn't," Jaskier snorts, wiping come off his chin and making heat spike in Geralt’s gut. He glances at Geralt's cock, and Geralt grits his teeth. It's not softened. At all. "Oh." </p>
<p>"Hmmm," Yennefer says. "Is that a side effect, or a witcher thing?" </p>
<p>"It's not a witcher thing," Geralt grits out. </p>
<p>"Damn," Jaskier says. Yennefer lets go of Geralt and steps back from the chair. </p>
<p>"My turn, then, I suppose," she says. Geralt hears fabric rustling and looks towards her, and nearly swallows his tongue at the sight of her hiking up her elaborately layered skirt. The sight of her Iacy, stockinged thighs is . . . a sight. </p>
<p>"We're going to be direct about things, I see," Jaskier says, backing up to make room for her. </p>
<p>"Look who's talking," Yennefer replies, then steps in front of him and pushes into Geralt's lap, setting off sparks all over his skin. Geralt swallows roughly. He wants to put his hands on her, but he doesn't. </p>
<p>Yennefer kisses him. He moans into it. </p>
<p>"That's what I like to hear," she says, then grabs his still-aching and too-sensitive cock and guides it inside herself. She's wet and <i>tight</i> and Geralt exhales raggedly, head dropping back against the chair. He doesn't know if he's ever felt this sensitive. He doesn't know how to stop it. </p>
<p>Yennefer rolls her hips and Geralt sinks deeper inside her, struggling to breathe anything like evenly. It doesn't work at all. She bites her lip around a grin, and Geralt feels dizzy with the sight of it. </p>
<p>"Oh, big boy," she says approvingly. </p>
<p>"Yes, I imagine he's noticed," Jaskier says, rubbing at his jaw. Geralt grunts senselessly, and Yennefer starts riding his cock with long, slow rocks of her hips. He knocks his head back again with a curse and she kisses his throat. </p>
<p>He has more control than this, usually. He'd be <i>doing</i> something, usually. Right now, though, all he can manage is to hold himself back from turning into an utter mess. </p>
<p>It's awful. </p>
<p>It feels so <i>good</i>. </p>
<p>Jaskier gets up and steps around to the side of the chair and leans down to kiss him, cupping his face in his hands. Geralt hisses painfully into it, his body burning ever hotter, and Yennefer braces her hands on his shoulders and rides him harder. He tries not to press up into it, but he can't keep himself from kissing Jaskier back, too harsh and hungrier than he means to. </p>
<p>"There's a sight," Yennefer says breathlessly. Geralt groans, either from the kiss or maybe just her tone of voice. It could easily be either. Jaskier keeps kissing him, and he keeps kissing back. Yennefer puts a roll in her hips that knocks nearly every thought out of his head and his hips jerk up reflexively. "Oh!" </p>
<p>Geralt struggles to get himself back under control, but it doesn't work. His skin is too hot, his body is too needy, Jaskier’s mouth and Yennefer’s cunt and both their hands all feel too <i>good</i>—</p>
<p>He grabs Yennefer’s hips and bites Jaskier’s mouth and they both make heated noises and lean into him. He snaps his hips up into Yennefer's and kisses Jaskier harder and can't focus past how they feel, the warmth of their bodies, the touch of their skin, the smell of sickly sweet flowers and the way it all <i>burns</i>. </p>
<p>"Yes, just like that," Yennefer says, still breathless and wrapping her arms around his neck, pressing their chests together. Even with his armor in the way, the pressure of the contact makes Geralt <i>ache</i>. Jaskier deepens their kiss, and Geralt bites him again. Yennefer pushes her mouth up his throat. </p>
<p>He's not going to last much longer, he thinks. Can't imagine how he <i>could</i>. </p>
<p>He doesn't. A few more rocks of Yennefer’s hips, and he's coming inside her with a violent jerk, hands digging in against her hips. </p>
<p>"Sensitive, mm?" she says with a smug smirk. He groans. His cock doesn't get any softer, and she squeezes her body around it, knocking the breath out of his lungs. </p>
<p>"We should really take this to the bed," Jaskier says, glancing deeper into the rooms. </p>
<p>"Yes, let's," Yennefer agrees. She tugs at Geralt’s hair and he chokes, then lifts herself off his cock to move back off his lap and out of the chair. He leans after her helplessly and she crushes their mouths together for one heated, aching moment. "Mmmm. Take the armor off, Geralt." </p>
<p>He can't do anything else. </p>
<p>Geralt gets to his feet and starts peeling off his armor, and Yennefer makes a pleased noise that goes straight to his sticky, dripping cock. Jaskier steps in close and starts helping, and Geralt feels dizzy and overwhelmed and still can't breathe. His hands are clumsier on the ties of his armor than they've ever been, but Jaskier finds them with his own and tugs them apart. </p>
<p>Geralt lets his armor drop to the floor piece by piece, and Yennefer grins at him, biting her lip again. He wants to eat her out; clean up the mess he’s made. He wants her to ride his <i>face</i>. </p>
<p>Fuck, he just <i>wants</i>. </p>
<p>Jaskier reaches out and grabs his shirt and peels it off him, and Yennefer pushes down his pants, and he feels a dizzy rush and isn’t sure which one of them to touch. Somehow he gets out of his boots and the rest of his clothes without falling over or getting completely distracted, and both of them grab at him and pull him towards the bedroom door. </p>
<p>He follows, obviously. Their hands on his bare skin are . . . </p>
<p>He follows. Obviously. </p>
<p>They pull him into the bedroom, which is just as ridiculous and over-decorated as the sitting room was, but Geralt really could not give less of a damn about the decor right now. The only thing he really cares about is Jaskier and Yennefer and staying in direct contact with them for as long as he possibly can. He doesn’t even care that he’s the only naked one. </p>
<p>“Come here,” Yennefer orders. Geralt leans down towards her, feeling that dizzy rush again, and she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. He puts his hands on her hips and kisses back, too hard and too hungry, but she meets him in kind and tightens her arms around him. He pushes in as close as he can, trying to eliminate every inch of space between them; trying to keep from rubbing his cock against the silky fabric of her dress. He thinks about the fact that he’s already come in her once and then can’t think about anything else. </p>
<p>She’s gorgeous, and her body feels just right against his, and all he wants is to lose himself in the way this feels and stop feeling like this right now and pull himself back together. </p>
<p>That’s not happening, though. </p>
<p>“Yennefer,” he manages, voice rough. </p>
<p>“Well, you two are a sight,” Jaskier says. </p>
<p>“Oh, you were watching?” Yennefer says smugly, and Geralt forces himself not to chase her mouth with his own. </p>
<p>“Very funny,” Jaskier grumbles.  Geralt tries to steady himself again, but with Yennefer’s hands on him it's just not happening. He tries to breathe steadily, at least, and can't even manage that. </p>
<p>"I thought so," Yennefer says, and then she kisses him again and makes him <i>burn</i>. </p>
<p>"Gods," Jaskier says, and puts his hands on Geralt's hips and kisses the back of his neck. Geralt groans. The burning chases its way up his spine and goes straight to his head, and he shudders roughly. Jaskier mouths at his neck and Yennefer kisses his mouth and both of them put their hands all over him. Geralt feels pinned again, and likes it more than he ever wants to admit to aloud. </p>
<p>Yennefer pulls him towards the bed. He goes. She pushes him down onto the mattress and sits down beside him. </p>
<p>"Do you want to fuck him, or let him fuck you?" she asks. </p>
<p>"I see we're just assuming I don't care," Jaskier says. </p>
<p>"You're not the drugged one," Yennefer replies dismissively, putting a hand on Geralt's chest. He really can't concentrate enough to focus on her question, whatever it was. "Geralt?" </p>
<p>"Yennefer," he manages roughly, gripping her wrist. She tilts her head, then smiles up at him. </p>
<p>"Lay back," she says. He does, and she leans over him, stroking his chest. He bites his tongue. "Well? Get over here and take care of him." </p>
<p>"Bossy," Jaskier huffs, but he steps up to the bed and leans over him too. Geralt spreads his thighs unthinkingly to let him in closer, and Jaskier takes the unintended invitation and puts his hands on them. Geralt groans again. Yennefer smooths his hair back off his face. </p>
<p>Geralt feels like he's falling. He feels like his head's going to spin right off his neck. He feels—</p>
<p>"Oh, please tell me I can fuck you, Geralt," Jaskier says reverently, smoothing his hands down his thighs, and Geralt nods helplessly in reply. He thinks he'd let them do almost anything to him right now. Anything to keep them in close and touching him. "Fuck." </p>
<p>"Better do a good job, Julian," Yennefer says lightly, cupping Geralt's jaw. </p>
<p>"<i>Please</i> stop calling me that," Jaskier says resignedly. She smirks. </p>
<p>"We'll see," she says. </p>
<p>"Let me see if there's oil somewhere," Jaskier says, and regrettably takes his hands off Geralt, who has to bite back a disappointed noise. </p>
<p>"Check the nightstand," Yennefer says, still stroking his chest. At least she's still touching him, he thinks. If they both stopped, he's not sure what he'd do. </p>
<p>Jaskier checks the nightstand, then makes a satisfied noise and holds up a vial. Geralt watches him blurrily, aching for him to come back and touch him again. His head won't settle. His body won't stop burning. He wants <i>touched</i>. </p>
<p>Jaskier comes back and puts a hand on his flank, and Geralt tips his head back with a low moan, pressing into the contact. Yennefer smooths a hand through his hair again and he can't smell anything but flowers. </p>
<p>"There we go," she says. Jaskier opens the vial, and the oil inside smells like flowers too. Everything does. Geralt can barely breathe for it. </p>
<p>He should be doing more, he thinks vaguely, but he can't quite figure out what to do. He feels drunk and stupid and overwhelmed, overheated and <i>wanting</i>, and he can't focus past it. </p>
<p>Yennefer pets his chest. Jaskier pours glistening oil over his fingers. Geralt can't even decide which one of them to look at. </p>
<p>Probably that's why it's a surprise when Jaskier wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. Geralt chokes, knocking his head back against the bed, and Jaskier strokes him from root to tip. </p>
<p>"Hmm," Yennefer says. "How many times do you think we can make him come?" </p>
<p>"I think I want to find out," Jaskier says. </p>
<p><i>"Jaskier,"</i> Geralt grits out, fisting his hands in the blankets. </p>
<p>"Yes?" Jaskier asks, tightening his fingers around him. Geralt curses viciously. "I feel like that wasn't what you were trying to say." </p>
<p>"Hurry <i>up</i>," Geralt groans, knocking his head back again and pushing his hips up into the other's hand. Jaskier twists his fist and he curses louder. </p>
<p>“Should I?” Jaskier says, and he keeps up a steady pace of stroking not <i>quite</i> enough to make Geralt come and Geralt tightens his grip on the blankets, struggling to keep his body under his control. </p>
<p><i>“Yes!”</i> he says. </p>
<p>“Well, when you ask so nicely,” Jaskier says, then ducks down and covers the head of his cock with his mouth again, pressing his tongue up against the underside of it and twisting his fist around him again. Geralt goes back to cursing. </p>
<p>“You do like his cock in your mouth, don’t you,” Yennefer observes musingly, reaching down to put a hand in Jaskier’s hair and giving his head a pointed push. Jaskier shoots her a <i>look</i>, but goes with it. He sinks lower, pushing his mouth down further around Geralt, and Geralt keeps cursing. It’s too hot and too sensitive and too <i>much</i> and he wants absolutely nothing like he wants it never to stop. He tries to bite back the curses, keep his hips still against the bed, keep his hands fisted in the blankets instead of bruising someone, but he really only manages the blankets. Jaskier nearly chokes but doesn’t seem to care, just sucking him off roughly and taking still more of him in his mouth every time he bobs his head, and Yennefer strokes both of their hair as he works. </p>
<p>Geralt almost comes just for that, honestly. </p>
<p>It’s a close thing, anyway. </p>
<p>“Fucking <i>hell</i>,” he groans, and Jaskier swallows around him, and <i>that</i> he comes for. This time Jaskier actually does choke, and come drips out of the corners of his mouth and over his fingers. He inhales raggedly, then licks them clean without so much as taking his hand off Geralt’s cock. Geralt tries to look at him, but it’s just too much. </p>
<p>“Lovely,” Yennefer says approvingly, dropping her hand out of Jaskier’s hair but still stroking Geralt’s. Geralt tries to catch his breath, but he can tell the burning in his body is only at a lull. He’s still aching for more. </p>
<p>“Absolutely,” Jaskier says, pouring more oil over his fingers. “Still up for more, Geralt?” </p>
<p>“What do you think?” Geralt grunts. His erection hasn’t exactly gone <i>down</i>. He thinks if someone touched it right now he’d lose his mind, though. Even the brush of air against it is overwhelming. </p>
<p>“I’ll take that the way I want to hear it, then,” Jaskier replies, skimming his fingers down behind Geralt’s balls and rubbing the tip of a finger across his hole. Geralt groans, spreading his thighs further apart and tilting his hips. That. He wants more of <i>that</i>. “Oh, you’re gorgeous.” </p>
<p>This is a bad idea, Geralt thinks fleetingly, but he can’t quite pin down the source of the thought past everything else. </p>
<p>“Well?” Yennefer asks, smoothing his hair back. “What are you waiting for?” </p>
<p>“I am not waiting at all, in fact,” Jaskier says. He presses a finger inside Geralt and Geralt tightens his grip on the blankets again, panting for breath. It feels good. It feels <i>so</i> good. </p>
<p>Jaskier curls his finger inside him as he works in another, and Geralt stifles the raspy, needy noise that wants to escape his throat. It’s too good. Too much. </p>
<p>He wants <i>more</i>. </p>
<p>“All good?” Jaskier checks, scissoring his fingers carefully. Geralt nods uselessly, then has to stifle another noise, and then another. He’s still panting. </p>
<p>“I’m fairly sure if it wasn’t he’d have kicked you off by now,” Yennefer says wryly, shifting on the bed. Geralt ends up with his head in her lap, somehow, and her fingers brush across his collarbone and down his chest. </p>
<p>“What do you even <i>say</i> to people in bed?” Jaskier asks in exasperation. He twists his fingers and Geralt moans. </p>
<p>“Mmm, mostly things like ‘good boy’,” Yennefer says. Geralt bites his tongue to the blood. “You know. The usual.” </p>
<p>“Of course you do,” Jaskier mutters. He rocks his fingers into Geralt's body, Yennefer strokes his chest, and Geralt struggles to breathe evenly. It doesn't work. </p>
<p>Jaskier pushes another slicked-up finger inside him, Geralt rakes his fingers across the blankets, and Yennefer brushes his hair back out of his eyes. He wants to say something, but he doesn't know what he wants to say. He wants to <i>do</i> something, but . . . </p>
<p>Fuck. </p>
<p>"Oh, you're so tight," Jaskier says breathlessly. </p>
<p>"Get <i>in</i> me," Geralt grits out. </p>
<p>"Well, you heard the man," Yennefer says lightly. Jaskier snorts at her, but reclaims his fingers and leans over Geralt, fumbling his pants open one-handed. </p>
<p>"Such patience," he huffs, and then guides his cock inside him before Geralt can say anything back. Geralt shudders roughly, a cracked, aching noise escaping his throat. The burning inside his body gets worse. Jaskier braces a hand on his thigh, taking a deep breath, and it's all Geralt can do not to beg him to move. </p>
<p>"Jaskier," he manages thinly. </p>
<p>"Oh, believe me, I know," Jaskier says, then rocks his hips forward. Geralt bites his tongue again. Jaskier thrusts harder, cock slipping in deeper, and Geralt claws at the blankets again. It <i>burns</i>. </p>
<p>"Jaskier, <i>Jaskier</i>," he gasps, not meaning to say it, and Jaskier grunts lowly and fucks him harder. </p>
<p>"Hm," Yennefer says musingly, drawing her fingers through Geralt's hair again. "You can come again, can't you, Geralt? Can you do it without us touching your cock?" </p>
<p>"I don't—know," Geralt says, shuddering harder as heat curls in his gut; as Jaskier fucks him and fucks him and Yennefer pulls her fingers through his hair with brutal gentleness. </p>
<p>"I'd like to see that," she says. Geralt nearly moans. "Can you do that for us, Geralt?" </p>
<p>"I don't <i>know</i>," he repeats roughly, but oh, does he want to. He wants to do exactly what Yennefer wants. </p>
<p>"Well, let's see," she says. "Fuck him harder, Julian." </p>
<p>"Stop <i>calling</i> me that," Jaskier says, but he does, and Geralt can't hold back the sharp little keen that escapes him as his cock spits precome. He fists his hands in the blankets again, head knocking back in Yennefer’s lap, and Jaskier digs his fingers in against his thighs. </p>
<p>"Ah!" Geralt gasps. "Ah, <i>ah</i>—!" </p>
<p>"Just like that," Yennefer says. </p>
<p>"Oh, hell," Jaskier says. </p>
<p>Geralt can't do anything but moan and try to meet Jaskier’s hips with his own. He clutches at the blankets, grits his teeth, <i>aches</i>, and his body burns and burns and burns. Jaskier’s cock feels so good, feels <i>perfect</i>, and Yennefer’s hands don't stop touching him. </p>
<p>This isn't what he expected from this. This isn't what he'd thought would happen when he drew the short straw on who had to go through with this. </p>
<p>It feels so <i>good</i>, though. </p>
<p>It feels so, so good. </p>
<p>"Good," Yennefer says, and Jaskier says something too but Geralt can't think about anything but the way they're touching him, the looks on their faces, the way it <i>burns</i>. </p>
<p>It's so much. It's so much, and it's so good, and—</p>
<p>"Come for us, husband," Yennefer husks lowly, cupping his face in her hands, and Geralt comes so hard he sees <i>stars</i>, letting out a hoarse cry as he does. </p>
<p>Jaskier curses, his hips stuttering, and Yennefer smiles widely. She looks like she’s just gotten everything she could possibly want in the world. </p>
<p>"Good boy," she says, and Geralt <i>shudders</i>. He blinks up at the other two, slow and unsteady, and Jaskier thrusts into him again and Yennefer strokes his jaw and he shudders harder. He feels heavy and liquid, feels like he's sinking into the bed, feels like a candle that's going out, still warm and guttering but mostly just a melted thing. </p>
<p>Jaskier fucks his own orgasm into him, and Geralt clutches up around him as tightly as he can, dizzy and exhausted and hoping the other feels half as good as he does right now. Jaskier comes with a stuttering groan, and Geralt misses his cock the moment he pulls out. Jaskier collapses beside him on the bed and Yennefer shifts out from underneath him, moving down his body. Geralt watches her sleepily, not quite tracking what she's doing. </p>
<p>"One more go, Geralt?" she asks lightly, raising an eyebrow at him as she straddles his thighs and wraps a hand around his somehow <i>still hard</i> cock. Geralt bites his lip painfully. </p>
<p>"Yes," he says, and she smiles down at him and moves forward to guide his cock inside her. She's wet and hot and so, so tight, and he can't think straight with her around him. </p>
<p>Jaskier hums, shifting over to push his mouth into his throat and a hand down his stomach, and Yennefer rides him with long, easy rocks of her hips. Geralt grabs her thighs, just holding on, and she rides him harder. It's intense and overwhelming, riding the line of just too much to bear, and Jaskier’s hands and mouth on him don't help at all. He moans much too loudly, and Yennefer bites her lip with a grin. </p>
<p>"Good boy," she purrs. Geralt bites back another moan, and Jaskier kisses up his neck and puts a hand on his chest. Yennefer makes a pleased, heated sound and lets her eyes drift half-closed, running a hand up her thigh to cover one of his. Geralt should be doing more, he thinks, but his head is fuzzy and clouded and his limbs all feel too heavy to move. </p>
<p>Gods, he feels so <i>good</i>. </p>
<p>Yennefer hikes up her skirt further and puts her fingers on her clit, and Geralt watches intently as she touches herself and fucks herself on his cock. </p>
<p>"Oh, that's a sight," Jaskier murmurs against his throat, fingers curling on his collarbone. Geralt groans breathlessly. Yennefer smirks. </p>
<p>"Don't come yet," she orders, which makes it almost impossible not to. Geralt groans again, dropping his head back against the bed. Jaskier keeps touching him and Yennefer rides him until she comes herself with a heated gasp, and Geralt does his damnedest to hold himself together without falling off the bed. </p>
<p>Fuck, it’s so <i>much</i>. </p>
<p>“You’re good at this, Geralt,” Jaskier says, pressing a kiss against his jaw. Geralt bites the inside of his cheek. Hearing that shouldn’t feel good. He’s barely <i>done</i> anything. </p>
<p>“Yes, he is,” Yennefer says, lazy and warm, and Geralt is <i>so close</i>, so <i>painfully</i> close—“You can come now, husband.”</p>
<p>And he does, of course: comes with a strangled cry, arching up into Yennefer’s body and clawing at her thighs. Yennefer clutches up around him as he rides it out and Jaskier grabs his face and kisses him. His hips stutter, he accidentally bites Jaskier’s mouth, and the other two both make pleased noises. </p>
<p>Geralt collapses, gasping for breath, and Yennefer gets off his aching cock and Jaskier wraps an arm around him and Geralt tries to pull himself together, still feeling like he could fall off the bed or the floor or the <i>world</i> at any given moment. It doesn’t work. Yennefer presses up against his other side and kisses his throat, and Jaskier bites his collarbone gently, and Geralt pants and moans and can’t so much as lift a hand. He’s a mess, sweaty and sticky and exhausted, and the lingering scent of sickly sweet flowers is just barely clinging to the room. Jaskier and Yennefer are still touching him. The burning in his body isn’t so bad anymore, though, and every breath comes a little steadier. </p>
<p>“Feeling better?” Jaskier asks, skimming a hand up his stomach. </p>
<p>“Mm,” Geralt says. He’s not sure if he is yet. He can still smell flowers, and—oh. No. That’s just Jaskier and Yennefer, that smell like flowers. And not the strange sickly sweet kind, just normal perfumes. He exhales in relief and closes his eyes; one of them kisses him, then the other. He’s too tired to even figure out which was which. </p>
<p>“That took some doing,” Yennefer says, drumming her fingers on Geralt’s chest, around his medallion. He could open his eyes, and maybe he should, but he doesn’t. </p>
<p>“There’s a reason the practice went out of fashion and unfortunately that reason was not basic human decency,” Jaskier says with a sigh, laying his head on Geralt’s shoulder. It feels good there. Geralt should shrug him off, but he doesn’t do that either. Yennefer hums, drumming her fingers again. </p>
<p>“Well, they can’t say we didn’t complete our end of the bargain,” she says. </p>
<p>“If they try to, I’m throwing them <i>all</i> in the moat,” Jaskier grumbles. Yennefer chuckles lowly. Geralt . . . drifts, a bit, and doesn’t quite listen as they continue talking. They snipe a little; they laugh a little; they murmur quiet things. He just drifts. </p>
<p>This won’t be here tomorrow, he knows, but it’s the best night’s sleep he’s gotten in a while.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <a href="http://suzukiblu.tumblr.com/">Tumblr!</a>
</p></blockquote></div></div>
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